Summer | 2025
Jeremy Anderson: Built to Last
“We're not expecting powerlifters. We're building habits. So when they leave here—college, work, life—they’ll know how to take care of themselves.”

Jeremy Anderson has spent 13 years teaching Total Fitness classes at Macomb High School and coaching its boys’ basketball program. But his roots run much deeper than that—through Avon, Abingdon, and decades of Friday night gym lights.
“I was hooked in fourth grade,” he says. “My brother was five years older and played in the Fresh-Soph game. By halftime, the gym would be packed. The place would erupt for varsity. I fell in love with it.”
That early imprint stuck. After playing in high school and volunteering as a young assistant under coaching legends like Kevin Long and Hall-of-Famer Coach Casper, Jeremy knew he wanted a career that combined teaching and athletics. He’s been in education for 24 years now—first at Abingdon High, where he taught history and PE, and now in Macomb, where he leads both in the fitness center and from the sidelines.
His Total Fitness classes are unlike traditional PE. They’re elective-based and structured around lifelong wellness. “We do weightlifting and other fitness activities out in the fitness center,” he explains. “It’s all geared toward personal fitness and helping students develop habits they can carry with them after high school.”
It’s a class designed for practical impact—not athletic trophies, but daily life. “We want them to feel comfortable walking into a rec center at college, or a YMCA, or even just working out in their basement,” he says. “You don’t need expensive equipment to take care of yourself.”
The format also lets Jeremy build relationships with students in a deeper way. “I see about 160 kids a day across six sections,” he says. “But it’s more personal than a traditional PE class. We talk about routines, we set goals. Some of them do better when I hop in and lift alongside them.”
The gym is his second classroom—and in basketball, the stakes are often higher, but the values remain the same.
“Basketball teaches urgency,” he says. “You miss a shot—there’s no time to sulk. You get back on defense. You regroup and respond. The game doesn’t wait. That’s a lesson for life.”
He’s led the Macomb boys’ basketball program since the day he started teaching in the district, shaping young men not only into athletes, but into future coworkers, partners, and leaders. “We’ve had some really good players,” he says. “But more importantly, we’ve had guys who were willing to sacrifice for the group.”
That doesn’t happen by accident. “Every year, it’s different,” Jeremy says. “You don’t keep the same group for four or five years like in the pros. You start fresh, and your biggest job is molding 12 or 15 individuals into a unit that functions as one.”
He’s proud of the way his players carry themselves—on the court, in the classroom, and out in the world. “Most of our guys do well academically,” he says. “We rarely have eligibility issues. But it’s not just grades—it’s the mindset. When we get back late from games, they still have to be in class, ready to go the next morning. That’s work ethic. That’s maturity.”
Jeremy’s coaching style emphasizes composure and character, even in the most heated moments. “Your players are watching you. How you respond to a bad call—that becomes how they respond. I try to be purposeful about that.”
His influence stretches well beyond game time. From freshmen learning self-discipline in the weight room to seniors leading under pressure in postseason matchups, Jeremy is helping shape what comes next for these kids. Whether they become coaches themselves, community leaders, or just solid teammates in life, they’ll carry something from their time in his programs.
“A lot of them won’t play another organized game after high school,” he says. “But they’ll carry the habits, the toughness, the accountability. They’ll fall back on what they’ve trained.”
Just like he did—decades ago, under the lights in a packed little gym, watching his brother play, feeling something big stir inside him.
And now, every time another fourth-grader comes to watch Macomb play—wide-eyed, sitting in the stands, taking it all in—he knows: the story continues.
